Page 35 of The Holiday Cottage

I’ll be there within the hour.

Sophie immediately called her.

Deciding that she couldn’t put this call off any longer, Imogen lifted the phone to her ear and then caught the nurse’s eye.

“Sorry.” She rejected the call. “I’ll go outside and take it there.”

“You can see your mother now. But don’t upset her.”

Don’t upset her?That was rich. Imogen wondered what the nurse would say if she was aware of the reality of her relationship with her mother. It was far likely to be the other way round.

A few minutes, she promised herself. That was all this was going to take, and then she’d go back to work and hope no one would ask her too many questions about the missing hours in her day.

She followed the nurse down the corridor and up a flight of stairs. Her knees were shaking and her brain was telling her to run fast in the opposite direction. But this was her mother and what sort of a person would she be if she didn’t respond to a call from a hospital? This was a genuine medical situation.

And yes, she could have refused to come, but what if her mother had died? Would she have been able to live with that decision? All they had in the world was each other.

Her mother was lying in a bed, surrounded by machines that beeped and flashed. Her eyes were closed, as if she was determined not to look her predicament in the face. She was wearing a printed shirt that was badly creased and there were stains that probably preceded her recent misadventures. Stains that suggested the shirt had been worn long after the time it should have been consigned to the laundry pile. Her appearance told Imogen everything she needed to know about her mother’s current state.

“Mrs. Thorne?” The nurse adjusted the flow of her drip. “We have your daughter here to see you. Just a short visit as you were asking for her. You need to rest.”

“My daughter? I didn’t ask for my daughter.” Tina Thorne opened her eyes and slowly turned her head, and Imogen was eleven years old again.

I’m in the school play, Tina. Will you come and watch me?

Why would I want to do that?

Terry would have been there, but Terry was gone.

She’d told her school friends that her mother had a big job and couldn’t make it, and she’d pretended that she didn’t care that she was the only person in the cast who didn’t have someone who loved them watching from the audience.

Imogen had done it alone, the way she did everything alone. She taught herself to cook because her mother couldn’t be bothered. She did the laundry and the shopping. As soon as she could, she’d got herself a Saturday job and she’d started saving. She loved working and getting paid for it and she’d loved school. She’d been saved by school, or more specifically by Miss Winston, her English teacher. Miss Winston had seen something in her that no one else had. Deprived of any positive reinforcement at home, Imogen had discovered that school was different. The harder she worked, the more she achieved, the more she was praised. She aced every exam she took. She was easily the best student in the school, and the better she did, the more delighted and proud they were. Imogen was never happier than when she was at school. Working hard didn’t worry her. Working hard brought rewards. Validation. There was a point to it. A purpose. And she didn’t care that she had to work so hard at home that keeping up with schoolwork ate into her sleep time. She was just relieved to have something that was hers. Something she could control.

It was the staff at her school who had encouraged her to apply to university and helped her navigate the system. She’d had offers from all the colleges she applied to, but she’d picked one far from home. And she’d built a life and grabbed every opportunity that came her way. Her years at school had taught her how different her homelife was from most people’s, and she’d learned to hide that fact. She learned how to blend, and how to fit in by studying people and copying them. The way they dressed. The way they talked. The things they talked about. She became someone people might want to spend time with and developed a small friendship group of similarly studious people. She participated fully in most aspects of student life, although when other students experimented with drink and drugs, Imogen walked away. That was a path she was never going to tread. She’d seen where it could lead. She was looking at it now.

She pressed her fingers into her palms and forced herself to stand her ground. She was an adult now with her own job and her own home. She didn’t need to feel afraid.

Her mother’s stare was blank. “What are you doing here?”

“The hospital called me when you were brought in.”

“Why?”

“Because you had my number in your purse. I’m your next of kin.” And for a moment she wished that wasn’t the case. As a child she’d sometimes wished her mother would disappear overnight and be replaced by a different version. A better version. And then she’d feel guilty for thinking that and modify her wish to having a sibling. It would have been easier if she’d had someone to share it with.Our mother is in hospital again.

“I’ll leave you two alone for a moment.” The nurse checked the monitors one more time and glanced at Imogen. “Don’t tire her out.”

The nurse was probably wondering why she didn’t give her mother a hug, but Imogen knew a hug would be as welcome as a mosquito bite.

She waited for the nurse to leave. “They told me you fell on the train line.”

“I don’t remember. And I still don’t know why you’re here.”

Imogen took a breath. She was not going to let her mother upset her. “I’m here because they called me. You were asking for your sister. I explained you didn’t have a sister.” When her mother didn’t answer, she sighed. “Had you been drinking?”

Tina’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t you stand there judging me. You have no idea what my life is like. Did you bring the money I asked you for?”

Her heart was thudding. “No. I told you when you called last time, I won’t give you money. I’ll buy you food, I’ll pay your rent or your bills, but I won’t give you money to spend on drink.”

---